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Vorkuta Prisoners
The Vorkuta Prisoners are the prisoners held in the Vorkuta Gulag who make a bold escape attempt led by Alex Mason and Viktor Reznov in Call of Duty: Black Ops. Mason and Reznov have planned out this daring escape plan for months, breaking down each step of the escape into an individual task. What begins as a simple brawl escalates into a full-out battle involving helicopters, machine guns, and makeshift siege weapons. Picking up the guard's weapons, the prisoners manage to become a formidable fighting force, considering what they had started from. Many of the prisoners are killed as they charge into a hail of fire from the guards, but Mason is able to escape to safety. Battle vs. the Malmedy Survivors (by El Alamein ) Malmedy Survivors: Vorkuta Prisoners: The snow howls audibly in the miserably cold northern winter as a Soviet army truck bounces along a dirt road. Inside sit five American soldiers, shivering and exhausted. The Second World War has come to a sudden halt after the catastrophic defeat of the German military during the Battle of the Bulge, and the Soviet forces have declared war on the Allies just as quickly. Red Army forces stumbled upon the pitiful survivors of the Malmedy massacre and rounded them up for interrogation, preparing to transport them to the Vorkuta gulag for detention. Unbeknownst to the Soviets, one of the soldiers has managed to sneak a .45 M1911 handgun in his coat, and several of the others have stowed their bayonets and knives in their boots. Suddenly the truck grinds to a screeching halt, throwing the Americans from their seats. The driver of the truck stumbles from his seat and shouts in Russian, but several gunshots and a scream silence him. The Soviet guarding the Americans in the back of the truck jumps out, but meets a similar fate. Assuming their captors to be slain, the Malmedy survivors slowly rise and the captain peers around the corner, handgun drawn. Two more bullets ping off the side of the truck, sending the captain scrambling back for cover. The Vorkuta gulag has crumbled into chaos as the prisoners have commenced a massively determined rebellion, breaking out with makeshift and stolen weapons and fleeing into the surrounding winter wasteland. Five of the Vorkuta prisoners (including the Monster of Magadan, Sergei Kozin) have fled down the main road, bringing them to a brutal collision with the truck carrying the Malmedy Survivors. As the Malmedy Survivors sprint down the road for cover behind a snowbank and a ditch, the Vorkuta Prisoner with the handgun shoots at the Americans, injuring one in the leg and the shoulder. The wounded man falls and hits the dirt road as his comrades reach safety. A third shot to the stomach finishes him off, sending him in a violent death spasm that throws a blood splatter across the snow. The Vorkuta prisoners advance as the gunslinger fires again, only to hear the infamous click of death. A moment later the Malmedy survivor captain rises with his .45 and places one round into the Russian's chin. The Vorkuta prisoner clasps at the gaping hole in his face and drops the pistol as he crumples backward to the ground. While the Vorkuta prisoners turn to recover the firearm and the magazines on their dead ally's body, the Malmedy survivors take off, sprinting in the opposite direction and down a nearby hill. "Take cover behind that tree," the captain orders one of his men, handing him the pistol. "We'll grab their attention to the east and you can take them by surprise." The Malmedy survivor takes off right before the Vorkuta prisoners appear on the top of the hill. Sergei Kozin hops down with his pickaxe and charges forward while the Malmedy survivors unsheathe their blades and try to steel themselves for the fight to come. Rushing forward, the captain bravely plunges his trench knife into the Monster of Magadan's stomach, but Sergei swats him aside with his arm and pushes forward, swinging his pickaxe and tearing through the torso of one of the Americans. He shakes the pickaxe to dislodge the body stuck on it and raises it high over his head for another attack, only to be interrupted by a pistol shot to the shoulder. Stumbling forward painfully, he grunts in confusion and turns to see the Malmedy survivor with the pistol aiming at him. The American suddenly jerks to the side, blood spurting from his neck, as a 9mm from the Makarov slams into his face. The pistol falls from his hand and lands into the snow. The captain of the Malmedy survivors rolls over, regaining consciousness, and his eyes drift to where the M1911 lays on the ground. He crawls on his stomach, racked with pain, while his last surviving soldier sidesteps a brutal swing from Sergei and makes for the pistol-toting Vorkuta prisoner. The Russian scrambles to change magazines once more - having spent his second-to-last clip during the firefight earlier - but is too slow as the American grabs him by the scruff of his collar and throws him to the ground. The Makarov skitters to the dirt road below, the magazine clattering in the opposite direction. The Malmedy survivor follows up by plunging the bayonet into the chest of the Russian and dragging it up and out, tearing his throat in the process. He throws the gurgling Russian off the side of the road and turns to a Vorkuta prisoner rushing him with a makeshift knife made of scrap metal. The short blade punctures through his coat and into his upper leg, but fails to reach anyting substantial. In extreme pain, the American places his off-hand over the knife, preventing the Russian from extracting it for a second strike, and slashes his attacker across the side of his face. A deep gash sprouts in crimson red and the Vorkuta prisoner lets go of the prison knife, grasping at his face with both hands and yelling in fear. As he reels in pain, the Malmedy survivor runs up to him, stomps hard on his foot to get him to lean forward, and stabs downward into the Russian's exposed back. The injured American looks down at his leg and the knife buried into it, giving Sergei time enough to charge up the hill to the roadside while the only other remaining Vorkuta prisoner makes a dive for the Makarov. Sergei smashes into the Malmedy survivor's leg with the pickaxe, shattering the kneecap and sending the American crashing painfully to the ground. Ignoring the sharp bone fragments jutting out of his ruined limb, the Malmedy survivor holds his knife up in his palm as Sergei stomps down on his head with his entire weight behind it. Sergei drives his foot down with enough force to entirely skewer his heel with the knife, and drops his pickaxe in shock. He lurches forward and falls as the American captain slices through his spine with the M3 knife, killing him instantly. Down the road, the terrified Vorkuta prisoner snatches up the Makarov handgun and its magazine, and looks up to see the Monster of Magadan tumble to the ground like a fallen pillar and the smaller Malmedy survivor standing victorious behind him. The Russian hurriedly slides the magazine into place and pulls on the slide, raising the pistol and firing wildly just as the Malmedy survivor raises his M1911 and pulls the trigger seven times. The prisoner's shots fly wild, the bullets whizzing harmlessly into the snow all around. The American's shots hit home, the Vorkuta prisoner jerking seven times as each .45 tears into his body with lethal velocity. The Vorkuta prisoner looks down at his body, riddled with holes, and crumples to his knees before sliding facefirst into the dirt road. The American drops his spent magazine and inserts his last spare before making a quick examination of his surroundings and making a break for the safety of the cover of the forest. Expert's Opinion Although the Vorkuta prisoners had the advantage of a marginally superior firearm and the intimidating physicality of the Monster of Magadan, the Malmedy survivors were simply the better warriors in nearly every respect - better trained, better experienced, and better equipped for a battle against other combat-competent soldiers. To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here. Battle Vs. Jewish Ghetto Police (by Jackythejack) The group of prisoners didn’t know how they had gotten where they were. All that they remembered was that they were escaping from Vorkuta, and soon after they had left the gates of the gulag, there was a giant snowstorm that headed their way, enveloping them in snow. They thought they were going to die there, but in an instant, the snow had disappeared, and now they were suddenly in a city, though they weren’t sure which one. “What’s the deal with all of these Swastikas?” One of them had asked, but he wasn’t given much of a response besides a grunt of indifference from the one prisoner they were following. “I mean, the last time I checked, the Nazis were gone. I don’t see how-” “Will you just shut up about it?” One of them in the very back had snapped, his voice filled with hostility. “It doesn’t matter where we are or who’s around here, so stop asking questions.” “Oh, really? Because I think it’s important to find out where we are if we’re in a city with prison suits on.” “Look, I don’t care where we are, as long as we’re away from the hell that is Vorkuta. I don’t want to see that place ever again.” “Alright but I’d still like to know where-” “Both of you shut up,” The leader called out, pulling out his makeshift knife from his pocket. It was little more than a sharpened piece of metal, but it proved to be surprisingly effective. “I hear someone coming.” The prisoners, who were in the middle of the streets, all stopped where they stood. They would see a group of people round the street corner. They seemed to be officers, based off of their uniforms, but they also sported nazi symbols on their uniforms, which was more than enough to make the Russians hostile. When the officers saw the men in prisoner uniforms in the middle of the street, they pulled out their own weapons. Batons and knives were pulled out as the police walked towards the criminals, who also pulled out all of their weapons. “Who are you people?” The seemingly leader of the police force asked. Though, he had spoke in German, which only one of the Russians could actually understand. “Escapees,” the Russian responded, also in German, “and if you don’t want any problems, nazi, I suggest you leave us alone.” “I don’t think we can do that.” “Then it seems like you’re going to have a problem.” Without hesitation, the Russian would take his knife and stab it towards the officer. It landed in his shoulder and sunk deep into the man. The officer let out a scream of pain and punched the leader in the face, causing him to stumble backwards. The prisoners let out what could only be described as a war cry as they charged towards the other officers, armed with knives and batons. One officer had managed to get himself into a fight with one of the men with a knife. The prisoner would slash towards the officer, only managing to cut his uniform before the officer retaliated with his own knife slash, leaving a large gash on the prisoner’s shoulder. The Russian screamed out in pain and put his hand to his shoulder, which left him open for an attack. The officer stabbed the prisoner in the gut and the man’s entire body would tense up, providing resistance as the Jewish man pulled the knife out of his chest to stab him several more times in various places around his body. Once he was finished, he pulled his knife out and pushed the man to the ground. He didn’t move, and he’d bleed out soon afterwards. Prisoners: 4 Officers: 5 Another officer was fighting a prisoner armed with a baton, and it was clear to see which one was at a disadvantage. Everytime the officer swung, the heavier club would only zoom past the prisoner, and it was easy to avoid. The officer would take time bringing the club back for another swing, which left him open to an attack. The prisoner would lung forward and slam his baton into the arm of the officer, the one that wasn’t holding the club. The officer cried out in pain as he swung at the prisoners leg. He was able to hit it, leaving a nasty open wound which made blood fall onto the streets of the ghetto. The prisoner winced and almost faltered in his stance, but he stood strong and smacked the officer over the head with his weapon. Reeling back in pain, the officer would put his hands to his head, his vision becoming blurry as he moved back. The prisoner took this as an opportunity to yank the club from the officers hands and bash him over the head with it, and immediately afterwards the officer fell to the floor like a rag doll. Prisoners: 4 Officers: 4 As the one prisoner walked away from his victim, two officers and prisoners were getting caught up in a fight, armed with both batons and knives. They duo would trade blows, baton intercepting knife and the knife occasionally scraping by the skin of a human, causing them to bleed somewhat. One officer would stab at a knife wielding prisoner, but he would be intercepted by a baton hitting him in the side of the head. He stumbled back, only to feel a knife stab into the side of his torso. The guard screamed in pain and stabbed at the hand that held the knife. The prisoner had let go of the knife and backed away, the knife sticking right out of his hand. He stared at his hand in disbelief before letting out a scream of pain and terror. It didn’t take long for the officer to pull the knife out of his side and stab it into the prisoner’s neck, causing him to fall limp to the ground, blood spilling out onto the street. “You Nazi scum!” the remaining of the two prisoners exclaimed before forcefully grabbing the knife from the officer and ripping it out of his hand. He stabbed the officer in the side opposite of his already inflicted stab wound. Though the officer wouldn’t feel pain for much longer, as the prisoner would then stab him in the chest and push him to the ground, and that’s when the officer finally stopped moving. Turning to face the officer closest to him, the one he was fighting with earlier, he could just barely avoid the club to the face that the officer was planning for him. He was just barely able to not be overpowered from the initial impact, blocking the club with his own baton. Putting all of his force behind it, the Russian would push against the cop and make him lose his balance, The prisoner hit him in the side of the leg and he fell to the ground Expecting this to be one of his few chances to fight the man, the Vorkuta Prisoner would begin to assault the officer with his baton, beating the life out of him. After the tenth or so hit, the prisoner finally stood up, breathing heavily as he stared at the bloody corpse of the officer. Prisoners: 3 Officers: 2 The remaining prisoner from the combat of four would then turn around to see that there was one lone officer, armed with two knives, it seemed. He must have picked them up from one of his falling allies. The police officer seemed hesitant, judging by his facial expression, but he still moved forward and swiped at the man with both knives. He was clumsy with his movements, but he was still able to hit the man. Both times, in fact. Leaving two gashes on his arm, the one that held the baton. The Russian dropped his baton as he looked at his arm. Blood dripped down onto the streets of whatever city he was now sure he was going to die in. Knowing that the only way out was to fight, the man pounced towards the man. The sudden charge forward was surprising enough to stun the Jewish officer, and cause him to not move. The assaulting Russian punched the man directly in the face, causing him to stumble back, as well as knock a tooth out. He was punched once more, and again, and again. It wasn’t until the fifth or so punch that the officer was able to react. The policeman would wisen up to this attack and move out of the way of one of the oncoming punches. The officer then leaped forward and stabbed the knife into the prisoner’s chest, and the man cried out in pain. This left the policeman open for another attack, though, and the convict would wrap his hands around the man’s neck in an attempt to choke him out. It didn’t end up working, as the officer just punched the man in the face, which made his grip loosen just enough for the man to get away. As a last ditch effort to end this officer before he ended him, the prisoner pulled the knife out of his chest and stabbed it into the officer’s shoulder. The officer cried out, but was able to stab the prisoner once more with his other knife, directly in the side. The prisoner winced and punched the man in the face. This time, the man fell back, and he lay there, limp. The prisoner looked at his hopefully dead victim and let out a chuckle before collapsing to the ground himself, his legs unable to support himself as too much blood came out of his wounds. It wouldn’t be long until he too lie still on the streets of this foreign land. Prisoners: 2 Officers: 1 The last officer wouldn’t be having an easy time either. He was engaged in a full on fight between two of these Russian prisoners, and he didn’t know how to fight back against these people. He had half the mind to run away right now, but he doubted the convicts would let him to that. From behind him, the officer would receive a baton blow to the head, though his grip on his club didn’t loosen, and he was able to swing it at the other prisoner, the one who had not hit him. He managed to hit the prisoner in the leg, but not much damage was done to him. The prisoner responded by stabbing the man with his prison shiv, hitting him in the forearm. “Die, you scum!” The prisoner shouted as he forcefully tore the knife out of the man’s arm. “Nothing will stop us from getting to freedom!” With that final statement, the prisoner stabbed the officer right in the temple, causing the man to immediately go limp and fall to the ground. It was only after the final opponent fell that the man’s legs would start to feel wobbly. He would have fallen over if his other convicted comrade wasn’t there to support him. The two looked around at all the houses and saw that people were peeking out there doors and looking through open windows at the foreign men who had killed a whole group of officers. Still angry, one of them shouted at the bystanders. “Anyone else want to die!?” The bystanders slammed there doors and windows shut in response. The prisoner shook his head and spat blood onto the stone streets of the ghetto. “Come, let’s get out of here before more arrive.” “That has to be the best plan all day,” the prisoner muttered as the two walked down the street of the ghetto. Expert’s Opinion The Prisoners won this fight due to the experience they had under fire. While the Police were little more than bullies to the defenseless citizens, the Prisoners actually fought on a large scale against armed guards, and they were not afraid to die, either. To see the original weapons, battle and votes, click here Category:Human Warriors Category:Group Warriors Category:Modern Warriors Category:Guerilla Warriors Category:Cold War Warriors Category:Russian Warriors Category:Historical Warriors Category:Call of Duty Warriors Category:European Warriors Category:Warriors Category:Rebels Category:Criminal Warriors